


and even if it's dark at least we'll be together

by castronomicaaal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ugh, because i am proud of this, yes there is character death but just read it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 08:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6696790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castronomicaaal/pseuds/castronomicaaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth doesn’t have a dress right now, but a part of her wishes she did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and even if it's dark at least we'll be together

Beth recalls when she was ten and her grandma passed away.

She didn’t really understand it too clear back then and just knew that Grammy Greene was in Heaven now, with God. Both her parents had tears in their eyes when they said this, but also had smiles on their faces and Beth figured that was enough.

With a smile of her own, she’d slipped into her nicest dress and left for the funeral.

Beth doesn’t have a dress right now, but a part of her wishes she did.

She stands just as still as can be, both hands clasped in front of her stomach while Father Gabriel reads from his bible.

The blonde knows this passage by heart, just as she knows most by heart, but his words don’t comfort her like they once would.

Instead she feels a bleak emptiness in their wake. There’s an unsettling twist in the pit of her stomach after every sentence.

Daryl was never supposed to die in this world. He was the one person Beth would have bet on. She just knew, from the very moment she laid eyes on him outside of her home, that he was going to make it.

God, how she’d been wrong. Beth almost feels guilty for ever having thought it at all. A part of her feels like she let him down when she told him he would be the last man standing. It was just another empty promise given in an empty world.

She knows it’s silly to think so, but she can’t help the way she feels. The blonde feels a slight tear working its way out of her left eye and she blinks rapidly, trying to push it away. It falls instead, landing effortlessly on her dirty white shirt.

Again she finds herself wishing for a dress, for something. This is all wrong and Beth knows that they all know it, too, even if they pretend not to.

She glances around the freshly dug grave, sneaking peeks at everyone saying their last goodbyes. At this point everyone else is just going through the motions, doing what needs to be done, but it’s not right. It’s not okay. Daryl would have hated this.

It’s only after Beth makes eye contact with Rick that any semblance of normalcy comes back to her. He’s crying soundlessly, eyes bloodshot, but in his face she sees defiance and a bit of anger. Rick knows it’s all wrong, too, and he’s having just as hard a time as she is from shouting as much from the rooftops.

They stare at each other for a moment longer before he nods tightly, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt. Then he turns and walks off.

The group is too busy morning to take any notice when Beth walks off after him.

He knows it’s her the moment he hears her footsteps, and he wordlessly extends his hand. She takes it, her own fingertips shaking slightly as she squeezes his hand comfortingly.

Rick is busy admiring Daryl’s bike as it rests in front of them. It’s what he died on and there’s blood all over the seat and handlebars to prove it.

Beth knows he was shot in the head, she knows he died instantly, but when she looks at the bike she can’t help in feeling just how _wrong_ it all sounds. That’s not how Daryl Dixon dies in this world. It can’t just end that way.

“Shhh, it’s okay Beth.”

The blonde is held up in Rick’s arms before she even realizes that she’d been saying her thoughts out loud.

His grip is tight and strong and she feels safe there, but the guilt overwhelms her. She had barely known Daryl, they’d been nothing more than civil to each other when he had been alive. Up until after the prison, at least. Then there’d been that spark, that _something_ that had hinted at a possibility of more. But there wasn’t enough time to explore that possibility. Often times there never is, and it’s a bitter lesson Beth has now learned. But he’d been Rick’s best friend, his partner in crime, from the near start and now here Beth is crying over him in Rick’s arms as though she deserves to be upset about it.

None of this is fair.

When Rick pulls back it’s only to lift the bike. It takes him a few tries, but soon the engine roars to life. Beth doesn’t even think about the fact her sister will be worried where she is as she scoots in behind Rick, nor caring that Daryl’s blood is now getting on her. She wraps both arms around Rick and holds on tight.

They drive for what feels like forever, although it really can’t be more than fifteen minutes or so. Beth decides she likes the feel of the wind on her face, and even more so the feel of Rick’s warmth as he guides them down the road.

Eventually they stop nearby a clearing in the woods. She doesn’t realize just how badly her legs are shaking until she gets off, wobbling slightly as she does so.

Rick douses the bike with alcohol Beth never noticed he had brought and lights a single match before tossing it on the grass near the bike seat.

Beth takes a small step back, her heartbeat increasing as she watches the bike go up in flames. It happens quickly and she flinches, more so out of surprise than anything else. Rick stands by her once more and their hands find each other for the second time that day.

She watches the flames as they lick at the metal, at the leather of the seat, and finds herself breathing a sigh of relief. This feels more like Daryl.

This feels more _right._

No one else should ever get to sit on that seat, to hold the bars he once held, to hear the loud rev of the engine. Not again.

Their ride was the last ride, the one to send him off and say goodbye.

Beth feels better about this send-off. She decides she doesn’t need a dress at all, doesn’t need the words of a priest or the sound of crying.

She just needs Rick’s hand in her own and the crackle of the fire to keep her warm so she can say her farewells.

For the briefest of moments Beth can see Daryl in the flames. He isn’t sad, in fact he’s wearing a grin on his face and a glint in his eye.

Beth knows he’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I drink tears for breakfast. Just kidding. But I hope you like it!


End file.
